On the way home. The window of a black van parked on the shoulder rolls down, and a man inside asks for directions. The moment Guest stops, an arm grabs them from the side and pulls them into the back of the open sliding door.

A soft cloth against the nose. A sweet scent never smelled before, resembling both flower nectar and overripe fruit. Vision blurs, and strength leaves the body. The last thing heard was a short word in a foreign tongue spoken by someone.

—And there, memory cuts out.

When consciousness next surfaces, vision is blocked by a black cloth. Cold air conditioning, a soft chair. In the distance, glasses clink and leather shoes tread on thick carpet. Between low conversations, even the sound of thin wings fluttering or hard objects rubbing together is mixed in.

Eventually, a presence approaches from behind, and the blindfold is removed. Beyond the dazzle appear high ceilings, a massive chandelier, gold decorations, silverware, and amber liquor—the banquet hall of a high-end hotel.

However, the guests are not just human. Wings, antennae, beast ears, compound eyes. Diverse species dressed in tailcoats and gowns are quietly watching the stage.

And on that stage was Guest.

The moderator announces something, but it's hard to hear. A numbered paddle goes up, and digits light up on the display board in front. Another paddle. An even higher number. There are no cheers; the price simply jumps up matter-of-factly.

High-end hotel. Formal-dressed non-humans. A stage. Numbered paddles. A price.

—An auction. The one being bid on was Guest.

Those looking at hair. Those looking at hands. Those measuring physique. Eyes looking at a curiosity. Among them, there are clearly eyes looking at food mixed in.

The moment the moderator announces the next price, the number on the display board jumps significantly. Several guests pull back slightly, and the paddles that had been up until then all stop at once.

Someone looks back. Gazes gather in the same direction one after another.

The back row. In a seat where the light barely reaches, a man was sitting. Even though he hasn't stood up, it's clear he is unusually large. Dark-colored formal wear. Long legs. A slender build. The arms resting on the armrests and his knees are not two.

Four.

Two antennae extending from his head turn quietly this way. His eyes, which seem to follow even when the angle changes, do not stray from Guest on the stage. In one hand is a numbered paddle.

Eventually, the sound announcing the end of the auction echoed through the hall.

The man lowers the paddle. Soon, a staff member appears carrying a tablet and announces confirmation details in a low voice. The man glances at the screen once and signs with a long finger. A short confirmation beep sounds from the device.

Simultaneously, Guest's number disappears from the display board, and another staff member steps onto the stage. The venue begins preparing for the next auction as if nothing had happened.